


A Friendly Face

by LunarShipper



Category: The Order of the Stick
Genre: Because it's Belkar, Gender Neutral Character, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Other, Romance, Shared Company, Swearing, i ship it like fedex, they pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarShipper/pseuds/LunarShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[A follow up to my previous story "A Shoulder to Cry on"]<br/>Neither of them knew why they did it, nor can they remember how it even began, but every night they would rise from their beds, head to the deck, and sit together in silence. Nothing was ever said about these meetings, and quite frankly nothing was said during these meetings anyways. The two would sit down next to each other -yet still at a distance- and simply enjoy the other's presence. (Belvaar)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to my previous story "A shoulder to cry on". Reading that fic is recommended but not necessary.

Belkar arose from his bed, still as restless as he was last night. Sitting up in his bed, his thoughts wandered to the night prior. He had found the elf crying on the deck, and had comforted them. They had remained in his arms for what seemed to be hours until the wizard wordlessly broke apart and retreated to their room.

His throat tightened slightly at the memory of being in such contact with the elf, and he shook his head in a desperate attempt to quell these thoughts. Last night was a fluke; nothing of the sort would ever happen again so he might as well get used to it.

Yet he kept feeling a nagging need to return to the deck. He scowled at his thoughts -it was getting cold outside and there was no reason to go onto the deck other than to remember Vaarsuvius's company.

Half a minute later he was silently cursing himself as he arrived at the deck. Vaarsuvius wasn't there, but why would they be? Any sane creature was asleep at this time, yet here he was pining for an androgynous jackass who wasn't even interested. He sat where he had last night and looked into the distance. The ship was still docked but it gave a damn good view of the town. The activity had all died down for the night, and everything looked dead.

Belkar grimaced to himself in frustration. Just what in the hell was wrong with him –how did this happen? The pompous elf was turning him soft, but how? Looking back, he couldn’t tell when the change really began. It was just little stuff at first –things that didn’t matter. _Maybe_ he’d complimented V’s spells a few times and _maybe_ he’d obsessed over the elf’s gender more than he should have, but that didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t fair that this androgynous jackass made him feel like this –whatever _this_ was. The wizard was so stuck up and self-centered, used big words just to confuse him, and seemed to make a conscious effort to piss him off.

But… then again, didn’t that same elf make the point that opposites attract? Something about bringing out hidden qualities in each other? Of course that made him gag in and of itself, but what if Vaarsuvius had a point? He had been acting different lately, and it was pissing him off; since when did he genuinely thank people? Or come to them willingly for advice? He even trusted the elf to take care of Mr. Scruffy –something he couldn’t imagine trusting anyone else with.

He was physically attracted to the elf –there was no denying that-, but simply lusting after the androgynous wizard shouldn’t be having this kind of effect on him.

The wooden planks creaked behind him, and he felt himself freeze. Slowly he turned his head to the source of the noise to discover an androgynous elf looking at him tentatively. His mouth slightly agape, he tried to process the elf's presence -he was here because he wanted to remember last night, would it be a stretch to say that the wizard was here for the same reason?

As he thought about this he simply continued to stare at Vaarsuvius. The elf quietly approached the halfling and sat down next to him -though not too close, Belkar noticed, the elf sat about 12 plank widths away from him- Vaarsuvius smoothed their robes and gazed out over the city. Their expression revealed nothing as always, though something was different. Belkar's lips curved into a tiny smile, and he looked out into the town. He was engulfed in the elf's scent -a clearly defined smell of soap and hibiscus. His eyelids drooped slightly as he bathed in the scent, and he felt the twinge in his stomach slowly ease into a serene calm.

Vaarsuvius's ear twitched. Despite the elf's desperate attempts to think of something -anything- else, they found themself subconsciously concentrating on the halfling's breathing. Usually his breath was fast and shallow; however at the present his breathing was slower, more deliberate. Vaarsuvius often found themself listening to his breathing and heartbeat, though now they clung to every hearty breath and savored it. The elf looked up at the sky and listened, absolutely captivated by the respiration of their companion.

The silence was a comfortable one, the elf and halfling sat in this calm quiet and simply enjoyed each other's company.

Vaarsuvius swallowed the lump in their throat. The elf was once again astounded at the lack of observation on their companions’ parts. Despite the repeated failures by Vaarsuvius to conceal their emotions, the assorted members of the Order have failed to recognize it. Vaarsuvius knew their emotions were well disguised, but should they slip up one too many times the others might notice.

It started out small -very little and subtle things that Vaarsuvius themself didn’t notice; the way they gravitated towards him without their knowledge and was almost always near his side, how they display concern for him, the butterflies that –despite their attempts to quell them- swell up in their stomach, and the way they clung to his every word. But over time things began to change, and the elf began to slip. All too quickly they dramatically saved his life and explicitly stated that they value him over a Lawful Good individual -a rather rash course of action.

The Event was the most telling sign; though they were not the one who initiated the kiss, they also did nothing to cease the action. They did not push him away, resist, or even emit a single muffled protest. The elf would later tell themself that this was merely due to the surprise at the sudden turn of events, but the fluttering in their gut at remembering their lips together would contradict those dismissive thoughts.

Oddly enough, not a single member of the elf’s party seemed to take notice to these actions. Though this seemed to be for the better; the elf was already having enough trouble trying to comprehend their emotions without the interventions of the others.

Slowly, the wizard began to notice the changes in themself; the names the elf voiced detest for were inconsequential when he used them, they now took part in actions with him that they once condemned, and they slowly began to see a change in Belkar as well.

Deciding that the risk was well worth it, the elf swiftly focused their gaze on the halfling sitting not too far from their position. He was restlessly looking at the city, his glittery eyes aimlessly wandering about. Vaarsuvius kept a careless expression as always, and resumed to gazing out into the night. Beneath their baggy sleeves, Vaarsuvius joined their hands together.

Hours passed in this calm silence. Every now and again the two would steal glances at each other, but no words were exchanged between them. After hours passed it became apparent that they should return to their beds. Vaarsuvius was the first to stand up. Belkar looked at the wizard quizzically and seemed to understand. They returned to their respective beds and slept/tranced soundly.


	2. Night 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone who has left kudos/comments on my fanfics thus far; they really motivate me to continue and it makes me happy.  
> So thanks~

The rain was pounding down, he could hear it very clearly. It was nearing a storm, no doubt. He rolled in bed, willing himself to sleep. Though his eyes were shut, sleep eluded him. He scowled at himself, knowing why he could not sleep. Rolling over again, Belkar accidentally knocked the pillow off the bed, sending it plummeting down onto Mr. Scruffy and Bloodfeast. The startled housecat yowled and jumped instantly, landing on the poor lizard. Cursing, Belkar grabbed the pillow and pet Mr. Scruffy to calm him. Bloodfeast had bolted off somewhere, probably under the bed hiding from Mr. Scruffy. Belkar looked out of the room and bit his lip.

Why was he even thinking about this? It was pretty much downpouring -it would be stupid to sit outside. Besides, Vaarsuvius wouldn’t be there; the elf was too smart to get drenched in the rain. Yet doubt still plagued him. He would just check real quick and then go back to bed once he saw the elf wasn’t there, like nothing ever happened.

He cursed himself for being so pathetic –like a dog crawling to his master’s feet. It wasn’t like they ever talked about these meetings, so how was he supposed to know when and when not to come? He was used to being angrily confused when it came to Vaarsuvius, but this was different. He wasn’t angry at the wizard, he was actually frustrated at his not knowing how to act around them. He stopped walking for a moment to gag.

Dammit he wasn’t supposed to care what anybody thought about him. The sexy shoeless god of war was perfect, and anyone who thought otherwise wasn’t worth his time… So why did that smartass make him so self-conscious? Putting up his hood, he poked his head outside.

Surprisingly, the mage was actually sitting there. The elf was calmly sitting on the ledge of the airship with their back to him. One hand was casually –almost lazily- lifted and glowing with a pink energy. Directly overhead was a Bugsby hand spell. The large hand laid palm up and was shielding the elf from the rain. The glow from the elf’s magic dimly illuminated the area in a faint pink color, the lighting resembling a candle’s burn. The elf’s ponytailed hair was completely dry, and they seemed to be in a very calm state.

Crouching in the shelter of the doorway, Belkar blinked. The elf was waiting for him, and was willing to shield them from the weather just so they could sit together. He tried to stop his hopes from getting up but he couldn’t help smiling at realizing that Vaarsuvius genuinely wanted to spend this time with him. And dammit he wanted to spend time with her. It. Whatever.

Vaarsuvius seemed to notice his presence and simply flicked an ear. Like always, no words were spoken between them. Belkar noticed that the Bugsby hand’s fingers were slightly curling and uncurling -the hand was gesturing for him to approach. The usual clenching in his gut didn’t piss him off like it usually did, he was too busy with his thoughts to be angry at himself.

He grabbed a tight hold of his dark green hood and made a mad dash for Vaarsuvius. His bare feet slapped against the wet wood loudly and he swore he was going to slip. After quickly rushing through the rain trying in vain to stay as dry as possible, he popped up on the edge of the airship. Sitting next to Vaarsuvius, still at a distance of course, he swung his legs over the ledge and settled down.

Looking up through the translucent hand, the halfling could see the rain splattering against its surface. The water splattered against the hand and trickled off effectively. The rain hit the deck around them, surrounding them with water. Belkar sniffed the air, as he liked the smell of rain.

The surrounding area was completely unrecognizable, the dark and the rain removed every detail. The night swallowed everything and the rain made everything else look fuzzy. The musky smell of rain kind of diluted Vaarsuvius’s scent, but it was a nice mix of smells. He began to realize something; even though he was so pissed earlier for being uncomfortable around Vaarsuvius, here he was sitting next to them and was calmer than ever.

Being suddenly aware of this, his chest tightened as he pictured the closeness between them –he didn’t dare look over at the elf for fear they had some sort of mind reading ability. He could feel his cheeks burning but thankfully the pink glow from the hand spell would make it impossible for his blush to be seen. He swallowed hard and tried not to think about it.

But whenever you try to not think about something it becomes all you can think about.

Belkar was an angry person -it was not a fact he kept hidden- but over time he could feel it slowly diminishing. Sometimes he almost went as far as to be considerate of someone else, but at those points he would catch himself and go out and kill something. Though now, at this moment, he didn’t want to stab anything or watch the blood of his victim’s pool. Right now, all he wanted was to be here with his androgynous twit.

The burning on his cheeks intensified, and the halfling was scared that he was glowing red at this point. Hopefully the elf wouldn’t notice, or at least think his face was just red because of the cold. A gust of wind slapped against him and he shuddered a little. Instinctively he turned is head to look at Vaarsuvius.

Vaarsuvius had scrunched their petite face against the wind, and was now readjusting their robe to look more professional. Right before the elf looked up, Belkar snapped his head back to look like he wasn’t just staring at them.

The halfling wiped his forehead with a hand. He was having trouble breathing -why weren’t his lungs working? His hands were hot even though it was freezing and wet outside, and now he felt like he was choking. And why was he so anxious? Then it hit him.

Because he realized that he looked over at Vaarsuvius after the gust of wind.

Had he wanted to ensure they were okay? No, that was stupid- it was just a little wind …Besides, he didn’t care if the elf was in danger or anything… Maybe he was checking to see if the elf wanted to call it off? Maybe, but he secretly doubted it. Then what else? The wind made him cold and he thought Vaarsuvius might be cold too, so what?

…

It took all of his willpower to not drop himself off the ship right then.

He could not seriously have wanted t-no. Hell. No. Belkar Bitterleaf was a stone cold killer, Death’s Lil’ Helper, the Sexy Shoeless God of War. Belkar Bitterleaf was a raging badass who all the women wanted and all the men wanted to be. Belkar Bitterleaf was a hardened criminal and a rugged warrior –though still incredibly handsome, of course.

Belkar Bitterleaf did not cuddle.

He scrunched his eyes shut against the feelings in his stomach and inhaled deeply to clear his head. Though all this did was give Belkar a good whiff of the elf’s scent. He cursed himself with very colorful vocabulary in his mind and bit his lip. His heart was pounding in his ears and he wanted to scream at it to shut the hell up.

It’s not like Vaarsuvius had ever had this problem, they were always composed and calm and… Hadn’t he proved that wrong a few nights ago? Vaarsuvius was broken down sobbing- that wasn’t composed at all. This realization made him stop, and he opened his eyes. Maybe he had been wrong about V… Obviously he didn’t know everything about the elf if he couldn’t even tell what they were feeling.

With a sudden burst of courage bred from curiosity, Belkar glanced over at the elf. He noticed their eyes had the same cloudy luster that the sky did. He bit his lip a little; the elf was clearly still upset about the whole genocide thing, but there was only so much he could do about that. The elf was always going to have to live with the knowledge that it killed countless living things in cold blood, no matter how hard they wanted to forget about it. Belkar’s mood sobered, there wasn’t much he could do to help the elf. He didn’t even know why he wanted to help. His eyes dropped to the elf’s free hand. Longing to hold it, his eyelids lowered. Belkar instead held his own hand in his lap and rubbed it with his finger.

Maybe these visits could help.


	3. Night Nine

The day had proved to be quite exhaustive for the elf; Sir Greenhilt had recommended that they all undergo exp. grinding while the ship was docked. Now why the ship was docked for shore leave was beyond Vaarsuvius -these humans were occupied with transporting them to their destination yet they found it appropriate to take actions not befitting their airship crew but rather a water vessel's personnel. Regardless, they respected Sir Greenhilt’s leadership and agreed that this was a reasonable course of action given the circumstances.

Regardless, Vaarsuvius took the practice seriously despite the lack of any challenging monsters in the vicinity. The entire day was spent honing their admittedly less-than-ideal aim on moving targets and even incorporating the companionship of BlackWing in combat techniques. The wizard managed to hit a vast multitude of minute, fast-moving objects with accuracy, a feat which painfully reminded them of their unsuccessful attempts at disintegrating a certain pesky imp, and devised strategies for utilizing BlackWing effectively in combat. The raven was still in an ill state, or rather he claimed to be, so the plans were set aside until they are able to be attempted at a later date.

Now that night had arrived, Vaarsuvius took the opportunity to lay peacefully on their bed until midnight, the designated time that the wizard would make haste to the deck above to meet with the halfling.

...Contrary to the previous statement, they did not hastily make their way to the meeting ground, rather they simply saw fit to maneuver quickly through the ship to ensure silence as to not disturb the slumber of those aboard. It is not that Vaarsuvius desired to be punctual, rather they were simply being courteous to their resting companions in allowing them sound slumber. Yes, that was it.

The deck was vacant, as it always was at this specific time in the evening. Vaarsuvius softly tread across the wooden planks that comprised the flooring until reaching the ledge. The elf sat down, determined to remain dignified at all times, and smoothed their robes down neatly. Their cape hung still in the absence of wind and the stillness of the environment only deepened the drowsiness the wizard felt. The elf's eyelids began to droop and the wizard yawned silently. Vaarsuvius debated on the matter of retreating for the night to trance, but in the end did not move. For some inexplicable reason the thought of not meeting with the halfling was an unacceptable notion. This gave Vaarsuvius pause. What was the reasoning for meeting here every night? Was there something of value that could be attained from this? Nothing came to mind. In fact only negative consequences could be conceived.

Perhaps the continued lack of rest would prove more of a hindrance than previously considered. It could be possible that the conduct they evoked when in each other's presence would lead the halfling to believe their actions hid some deeper meaning. And there was always the possibility that they would be seen. Despite doing nothing harmful, Vaarsuvius sorely desired for these meetings to be kept private.

A flash of dark green caught the corner of the mage's eye. The halfling was seating himself next to them, which in itself was not worthy of surprise yet the fact that his arrival had not been heard was troublesome. Vaarsuvius watched the halfling for a while.

...A moment.

...Briefly.

In all honesty, it had only been an instant. Really, it was not as if they had been staring at him, analyzing his features and studying his facial structure. And they were most certainly not admiring the way his forehead creased as his eyes squinted in concentration to look in the distance. His eyes glittered in their mischievous way -cunning, conniving, and striking.

Really, it was quite an obvious fact that they were not staring at his eyes. They were not analyzing the various blue hues that comprised his irises and the black luster of his pupils. The glint coating his eyes was not captivating in the least, and Vaarsuvius was most certainly not gawking.

Vaarsuvius flicked an ear and tore their gaze away from the green-clad halfling. Surely it was the lack of proper rest that was affecting their train of thought, and these thoughts were therefore reflective of nothing. Comforted with this thought, Vaarsuvius shut their eyes deeply. It took but a few moments for the drowsiness to return and the magic user opened their eyes instantly. Vaarsuvius had to take care not to drift off into a trance; the two of them might have been relatively more passive towards each other in recent times, but memories of the halfling's nocturnal sabotage activities remained fresh in their respectable mind.

Deciding to pay more attention to their surroundings in order to remain alert, Vaarsuvius listened closely to the sounds of birds -regular birds mind you, no common speaking ravens were included in this generalization-, crickets chirping along with the cicadas' cry, and the hollow breathing that sounded far too close and yet so far away.

Jerked from their thoughts, Vaarsuvius caught themself clinging to the halfling's breathing. His rugged breath was strong and steady, symbolic of the halfling who emitted it. Haggard breathing, complete with the breath visibly puffing out amidst the cold night air, left Vaarsuvius beguiled momentarily before they began to wonder if he was cold. Surely they did not wish for him to fall ill.

Vaarsuvius stiffened as these thoughts passed through their not-inconsiderable mind. The lack of rest must have been more significant than previously believed if thoughts such as these were being considered. Vaarsuvius's eyelids began to droop as they battled with these embarrassing thoughts. The elf finally conceded -they would shut their eyes for just a moment and open them again.

New Years, the town of blue pigmentation, had been the site of the Event. Exasperated at the lack of control the halfling-on-stilts possessed, Vaarsuvius had attempted to push him off of them. Perhaps it was merely accidental and indicative of nothing, yet logic stands to testify the truth to the old saying "a drunk man's actions are a sober man's thoughts". Perhaps his actions had intent, though the only way to learn if this was truth or mere conjecture was to confront the halfling himself, who would most likely deny ever doing such an act due to his lacking of memory. All of this was irrelevant to the fact that on that New Years, that irritating, despicable, insufferable cretin had kissed them.

And they had done nothing. It was absolutely ridiculous. They knew that they could have easily overpowered him; they were about twice his size and with his inebriation he was rendered even more unstable. All that was necessary to cease this event would be to push him away. Simple.

Yet they hadn’t.

Vaarsuvius hadn't shoved him away, nor had they cried out in protest. An inebriated halfling on stilts would have been considerably unchallenging to knock over, yet Vaarsuvius made no such action. Instead of backing away, they froze. Instead of crying out, they remained silent. And instead of breaking the kiss they -for a brief moment until reality ensued- reciprocated the action.

Vaarsuvius had – during that situation and every time they thought back to it- experienced an influx of emotions. A quivering festered in their chest and their throat tightened. Embarrassment, shock, disbelief, and elation coursed through them. After a moment they caught their mistake and back pedaled, but the elf still remembered how they had felt, and nothing could take that away from them.

A few hours later, Vaarsuvius's eyes began to flutter open. Slowly the elf collected their thoughts and with a jolt came to the realization that they had slipped into a trance whilst in a meeting with the halfling. The elf froze and cautiously investigated their surroundings, not wishing to disturb any traps that had been set.

Nothing had appeared to have changed; Vaarsuvius was still sitting upright in the same spot on the ship's ledge. The halfling had not seemed to have moved. Vaarsuvius swallowed a hard lump in their throat. The halfling looked over at the elf, noticing them stir. The two locked eyes for a moment. An unspoken truce had been established between the two and they knew it. Belkar looked away after a moment or two, cheeks red. Vaarsuvius looked at him for a few moments, then dismissed it as the cold air was most likely affecting his skin.

With a pang, Vaarsuvius noticed that they had mentally referred to the halfling by name. They had never displayed that show of respect, even if it was just merely in their mind. Yet he had displayed significant maturity –or at the very least, decency- just now.

 

The two sat a little closer after that night.


	4. Night Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geeze this took a while. sorry, I've finally finished classes so hopefully I'll have more time.

"It’s the last night, huh?"  
Vaarsuvius's ears pricked up -the silence had been broke. Though the silence had been quite welcome, Vaarsuvius could admit to themselves -however begrudgingly- that they had been developing desires to reach out and communicate. Perhaps he too had been harboring these same wishes. The pair of them possessed admittedly poor social skills, so Vaarsuvius was both impressed and relieved that he had broken the silence between them. Looking sideways at the halfling for a moment, Vaarsuvius found themself swallowing a hard lump in their throat.  
Realizing that they had not yet responded, Vaarsuvius offered a curt nod and fidgeted inconspicuously with their fingers. "It is... unfortunate... that we will be rendered unable to continue these meetings."  
Bitterleaf's eyes widened slightly and he looked up at them. Vaarsuvius became extremely conscious of the thermal increase of their face, and turned away after but a brief moment's worth of eye contact. Smoothing out their robes, Vaarsuvius willed themself to cease blushing, though this attempt was quite unsuccessful. Hopefully the party would encounter opposition within the next 24 hours -releasing a fireball would prove therapeutic at this juncture.  
A clearing of the throat jarred the elf from their thoughts. Bitterleaf -Vaarsuvius found this was an acceptable manner in which to address the halfling without deeming it a significant change- appeared to be at unease. Oddly enough, his face appeared to be void of color -almost as pale as the elf's own skin tone. He wriggled slightly, perhaps his height was more of a discomfort to him than the elf had previously believed.  
"You are squirming. Are you uncomfortable?"  
"No less than you, I bet."  
Curious. Vaarsuvius was not in discomfort -the wood was comfortable enough and the temperature outside was optimal. They were under the belief that his height was causing him discomfort. Vaarsuvius very rarely did not understand things; though social cues and norms offered a completely different outcome.  
"You said it was, uh... 'unfortunate' that we can't do this anymore." Bitterleaf spoke after a short pause. "Does that mean you liked doing this every night?"  
He appeared to have gained confidence now that they were not maintaining direct eye contact. He did not strike the elf as the type who didn't like being watched -on the contrary he seemed to enjoy being a spectacle. But... try as they may to deny it, they had been wrong about him before.  
"Yes, it is for that reason that I have continued to supply my presence for the past two weeks." An obvious answer to an obvious question. Though this was Bitterleaf; small words would prove more effective. "Was I unclear in my phrasing?"  
"What? No!”  
“Because I have come to understand that your vocabulary leaves much to be desired-“ The elf was smirking.  
“Shut up!”  
“-As well as your overall intelligence-“  
“Shut up!”  
“-Though you seem to be capable of some rational thought. Perhaps you may have surpassed my expectations…”  
Bitterleaf ceased his refutations, instead opting to gape at the elf with a sense of surprise. His cheeks appeared to be flushed, though this was most likely due to the cold.  
“…Though, of course, those were quite low to begin with.”  
“I’m going to kill you one of these days.”  
Vaarsuvius grinned to themself, and slowly reached their hand out and placed it on top of his.  
He wrapped his fingers around theirs.


	5. Day

"Boreddddd"

"This is the final instance in which I shall verbally dictate for you to cease your chatter, lest I apply my considerable arcane abilities to silence your incessant tongue instead of simple words."

The day had begun with the Order of the Stick arriving at Tinkertown. Vaarsuvius had gone to multiple magical item shops in search of a teleport orb, and Belkar had tailed the elf to the shop so he could pick up some anti-Durkon equipment. The two attempted to board the airship, having completed their shopping, but the gnome engineers were busy working on the Mechane, and shooed them off until the repairs were done.

Belkar threatened to gut one of the workers until they relented and let Mr. Scruffy come on board to rest. Naturally, BlackWing made a scene about not being allowed on and how the discrimination was just outrageous and- long story short the gnomes let him on board too, provided they stay out of the way of the repairs.

The two decided to find a place to eat, and after a long search Belkar managed to find a restaurant that was good enough for his "delicate sense of taste". And now the two were sitting at said restaurant, having finished their meal and paid. They simply sat idly at the table, not sure what to do now. For Vaarsuvius the answer was simple- they simply cracked open a book and began reading.

Unfortunately for the elf Belkar did not have the attention span for that.

"It's not MY fault there isn't jack shit to do here. They could at least have given us a hooker or two or left me with someone who doesn't have a stick up their ass."

"There is nothing contracting you to remain here, as you have completed your meal and paid. Also, I possess no such sti-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, Ears. Nobody cares."

"Considering you have just now presented the subject, you are proven incorrect -unsurprisingly, as that appears to be the unvaried result of your thinking if I may allow you the privilege of referring to it as such. By bringing to attention any aspect of fiction or reality, you demonstrate consideration of said information."

The big words and confusing phrasing slowed his response. "The hell is THAT supposed to mean?! You sayin' I care or something?"

"I could venture as far as to imply that you seem to have a twisted perception of the proper location of timber, and thus are demonstrating your innate lack of intelligence on even the most simplistic of knowledges, but I would not dare go as far as to infer that you have any semblance of emotion capable of the kindness and consideration that would be required in order to thus 'care' for another individual."

"Well, you're right about that." He spoke, relieved. Upon seeing Vaarsuvius's smug grin he hastily corrected himself. "The last part, I mean. Asshole."

The elf turned back to their book as if this had proven their point and they had won. Apparently they were wrong. "Hey. Ears. I'm not done talking to you."

The elf sighed and rubbed a temple. "May I expend a moment to inquire why it is that you insist on making yourself such a nuisance when all I desire is quiet?"

"Eh, you're fun when you're mad, and I got nothing better to do." He lazily played with the remains of his food, flicking the crumbs with his fingers.

"You derive entertainment from the physical suffering of an Explosive Runes? Or rather the loss of your daggers consequent of an impressive invisibility spell?"

"Goddammit that was you?!"

"Which individual amongst our party would have been capable of the extensive intellect and knowledge necessary to have cast such a spell? Puzzling, perhaps Élan is the culprit."

"Funny."

"Regardless, the spell should reach its expiration within the next rotation of the planet."

"You better hope it lasts longer than that for your sake."

"Your pitiful threats do not intimidate me." Vaarsuvius turned the page of their book and once again tried to ignore the halfling.

"Whatcha reading?" Belkar peered over the table to see the book.

"A scripture undoubtedly of knowledge far outside the realm of possibility and too complex for your feeble mind."

"Sounds boring."

"Perhaps to you the unraveled secrets of the universe would be. Morbid activities such as murdering the faculty of this establishment for not prioritizing you first or pillaging this town would more likely entertain your sadistic mind."

"See, now we're talking."

A sigh. Vaarsuvius stood up and shut their book. "Perhaps we should depart, we are providing unease."

Belkar looked around, and sure enough the gnomes were all but shivering in their seats, eyeing them warily. He chuckled to himself before getting up. "Alright, alright. So where to?"

"I fail to understand the question."

"Did I stutter? Where are we going?"

"'We'? I recall no binding contract which dictates we remain in such a proximity to be considered as sharing each other's company." Vaarsuvius began to exit the building with Belkar by their side.

"Got nothing better to do."

"And I am presented the luxurious delight at being the default venue for your entertainment?"

"Don't think of it like that. I like to think I'm being nice."

"Really." The wizard deadpanned as they walked outside.

"Yeah. I didn't stab you with the silverware while we were eating, did I? Even if the food was a little too salty and they should have just let me cook instead."

"Truly you are a saint."

"So what are we doing?"

"I shall depart to a quiet area of study in which I may continue the analyzation of this text. You will subsequently be left to your own devices -undoubtedly those of a macabre nature." As soon as they stopped talking Vaarsuvius stiffened for a fraction of a second. The green sprig of mistletoe dangling from the archway they were close to passing under had caught the elf's eye. A sweat drop ran down the elf's forehead and their eyes widened.

Belkar continued to walk on, and replied to the conversation Vaarsuvius had forgotten about. "Well, hey, if yo-"

Vaarsuvius stopped cold and extended an arm out in front of him. "P-Perhaps we should venture elsewhere, the shoreline for example."

The halfling stopped and looked up at them, his face confused. "Uh, sure...? What's got you so pale?"

"You have on numerous occasions noted upon my light skin tone, this should serve no surprise." Vaarsuvius continued to look forward, and dropped their arm back to their side.

"No -I mean, you're paler than usual."

"I simply prefer that we not travel any further down this particular trail and therefore suggest we vacant the premises."

"What's wrong with going that way?"

"Nothing, save for the festive season's decor and customs that appallingly are still widely in effect. Otherwise that path appears to be no different from any other." Vaarsuvius met his eye, and saw from that that he had no idea what they were talking about.

After a single beat he responded, pointing forward in the direction they were walking. "So, this way?"

Vaarsuvius's temper broke, and they rounded on him. "No, you fool! NOT that way! Do you fail to see the vegetation hanging from the archway that would dictate by festive customs for us to act in an inappropriate intimate fashion?!"

He looked at the arch in question for a moment and then smirked at the elf. Either he had really not known about the mistletoe or he had been hoping the elf wouldn't notice. "Scared of a little mistletoe?"

"Rather I would prefer to avoid the consequences of standing under said decoration." Vaarsuvius spoke distastefully, scrunching their nose up a little.

"Yeah, it is a little cliché." Belkar admitted.

"Will you now yield to avoiding this particular pathway?"

"I dunno, I think we should walk under it." Belkar shrugged.

Vaarsuvius broke out in a blush and went wide-eyed. They continued looking ahead; deliberately avoiding looking at the halfling. Belkar seemed to enjoy the reaction, as he had a grin plastered to his face. After a beat Vaarsuvius responded, unmoving. "You realize what that would entail."

"Yeah." He replied casually.

"Therefore I assume you jest."

"Nope." His smirk widened a little.

Vaarsuvius eyed him, equally nervous and confused. "If I am to comprehend this accurately...-"

"It's really not that complicated, V." Belkar interrupted, raising his eyebrows dully at the mage.

"Perhaps you would rather depart to the shoreline? Or instead might we check upon the progression of the ship's repairs and welfare of our respective animal companions?" Vaarsuvius looked over their shoulder, growing flustered.

"Nah, pretty sure this is fine. You honestly telling me you don't want a piece of the Belkster?"

"Perhaps you consumed an alcoholic beverage while I was unaware." Vaarsuvius looked back at the halfling, their expression more condescending than anything.

"Nah, though today would probably be more fun if I had..." He shrugged, "so are you coming?"

Put back on the spot, Vaarsuvius looked over their shoulder again and, blushing, looked around. "That would be an irrational and idiotic action."

Belkar chuckled, "hey, quit using all those big words, just gimme a yes or no."

Vaarsuvius -if at all possible- blushed even more fiercely. The elf remained frozen, eventually whispering more to themself than anything. "Perhaps..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to e-Hjorth. The bit where Belkar asks what Vaarsuvius was reading was a reference to a fanart of theirs; which can be found here (http://e-hjorth.deviantart.com/art/What-Are-You-Reading-320773001)


End file.
